Chapter 1: Eternalizer
“Front row, bitches!” Kelsey waved the tickets above her head as Ana squealed and grabbed her arm. “We are going to see Magic Journey from the front. Row. One.”
“Oh my God, that’s a score!” Ana’s eyes went wide. “My boyfriend is going to die when he finds out.”
“Well, it’s just us girls tonight.” Kelsey grinned and lowered her voice to what she imagined was a sultry purr. “He can survive one night without you. Besides, my eyes are going to be on one person only — Jason Stryker.”
I have his poster in my bedroom. He is so gorgeous..
Ana said, “Do you think that bulge is real, not that I really care.
Kelsey said, “I could care less about something like that”.
I’m calling BS on that. That is part of his persona. Then Ana laughed. “And Girl, he is so far out of your league.”
He’s not really out of my league. He’s twenty-three, I’m seventeen, and I’m hot.” Kelsey made a gun with her fingers, brought it to her lips, and blew across her knuckles. The smoke-blow — their signature move, the one that made guys at Moreland High trip over themselves. “I’m so hot he’s gonna have to put me out.”
Ana rolled her eyes but mirrored the gesture, both of them laughing as they headed to Kelsey’s car. There would be four of them total tonight — Kelsey, Ana, Tina, and Jessy. The popular girls. The ones who could wrap any guy around their little fingers and knew it.
“So what are you wearing?” Ana asked as they pulled out of the driveway.
“That short red skirt. You know the one. And the black top — the tight one.”
“Your dad will murder you if he sees you leave the house like that.”
Kelsey grinned. “Dad’s working late. Mom said it’s fine as long as we behave ourselves.” She glanced over at Ana, eyebrows raised. “Are we going to behave ourselves?”
“God, no.”
By the time they picked up Tina and Jessy, the energy in the car was electric. Jessy pulled a six-pack of brightly colored alcopops from her backpack like a magician revealing her best trick.
“How the hell did you score those?” Ana demanded.
“I sweet-talked my brother’s friend. Told him we needed supplies for a party.” Jessy’s smile was pure mischief. “Didn’t mention whose party.”
They passed the bottles around in the parking lot, the sweet alcohol burning down Kelsey’s throat as the bass from the venue thumped through the night air. By the time they made it through the entrance, the world had gone pleasantly hazy around the edges, everything brighter and louder and more alive.
“I brought weed,” Tina whispered as they pushed through the crowd toward the stage.
“Jesus, don’t get us kicked out,” Jessy hissed, but she was laughing.
They pressed forward, Kelsey’s heart hammering as the stage loomed above them. This is close. They were going to be this close. Tina pulled out a joint and started passing it to a group of guys nearby — seven of them, all older, all watching the four girls with expressions that should have registered as dangerous. But Kelsey was too focused on the stage, too intoxicated, too swept up in the moment to notice.
Then the lights dropped.
The crowd roared.
And Jason Stryker walked onto the stage shirtless, his guitar slung low across his hips, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he leaned into the microphone.
Kelsey forgot how to breathe.
She’d seen pictures, obviously. Music videos. But in person, with the stage lights carving shadows across his chest and his voice cutting through the screaming crowd like a blade — this was different. This was visceral. Her crush multiplied by a thousand in an instant, her seventeen-year-old heart catching fire as he launched into the opening song.
For forty-five minutes, she was lost. Every song felt like it was meant for her. Every time Jason looked out into the crowd, she swore he was looking at her. And when they started playing “Eternalizer” — the song, the one that made her cry alone in her bedroom — something in her brain short-circuited.
Other girls around her were throwing things on stage. Bras. Shirts. She watched one woman toss her underwear and saw Jason laugh, saw him pick them up and toss them to the side with a grin.
Before she could think about what a terrible, reckless, stupid idea it was, Kelsey reached under her skirt and slid her panties down her legs.
She threw them onto the stage.
For one glorious second, she felt wild and free and adult. Like she was the kind of girl who could catch Jason Stryker’s attention.
Then a hand grabbed her ass.
“Son of a bitch!” Kelsey spun around and drove her elbow straight into the jaw of the guy behind her — one of the group Tina had been sharing the joint with. His head snapped back, but his friends were already closing in.
“Get that bitch!”
Suddenly she couldn’t move. The guy she’d hit recovered fast, pressing her back against the stage, his hands yanking at her skirt, his body crushing against hers. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t —
“TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF HER, ASSHOLE!”
The voice boomed through the speakers, amplified and furious. Jason Stryker’s voice.
The hands vanished. Security materialized from nowhere, pulling the guy away. And then there were arms around her shoulders — not threatening this time, but protective — guiding her toward the side of the stage as the music screeched to a halt.
Ana appeared beside her, eyes wide with shock. “Holy shit, Kels — “
“Come with me,” a security guard said, already ushering them through a door marked CREW ONLY.
And just like that, Kelsey found herself backstage at a Magic Journey concert, her heart still racing, her face burning with a mixture of shame and adrenaline and disbelief.
Ana grabbed her hand. “Who would have thought we’d be backstage tonight?”
Kelsey couldn’t answer. She was still trying to process what had just happened. The assault. The rescue. Jason Stryker stopping mid-song to save her.
They watched the rest of the concert from the wings, surrounded by technicians adjusting sound levels and stagehands prepping for the next transition. Kelsey’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She’d nearly been — that guy had been —
“If we’re backstage,” Ana whispered, “that usually means we’re going to meet the band after.”
“Jason’s not like that,” Kelsey said automatically, though her voice sounded far away even to herself. “He’s… I mean, I’d love to marry him someday. If he asked me to — to be with him, I’d say yes. But he wouldn’t just — “
“Kels, to these guys, girls are a dime a dozen.”
But Kelsey barely heard her. She was watching Jason through the gap in the curtains, watching him pour everything into the final songs, and she felt something shift in her chest. He’d saved her. Jason Stryker had actually saved her.
After the show, he came backstage still dripping with sweat, a towel around his neck. Up close, he was even more devastating — green eyes sharp and assessing as they landed on her and Ana.
“You two okay?” His speaking voice was lower than his singing voice, rough around the edges.
“Yeah,” Kelsey managed. “Thank you. I mean — thank you.”
“What are your names?”
“Kelsey. And this is Ana.”
“How old are you?” The question was direct, no preamble.
Kelsey’s mouth moved before her brain caught up. “Um. Twenty.”
“Nineteen,” Ana added quickly.
Jason’s expression shifted — skeptical, almost sad. “Neither of you look like you’re eighteen.”
Kelsey’s stomach dropped.
“I’m going to take you home,” Jason said. It wasn’t an offer.
Ana jumped in. “I drove, so — “
“Then I’ll have someone escort you to your car. Do you want me to have someone follow you to make sure you get home safe?”
“I think I can manage once I’m at my car,” Ana said, her voice small.
Jason’s eyes stayed on Kelsey. “You’re riding with me.”
The limo was absurdly luxurious — leather seats, mood lighting, a mini bar that Jason ignored. He sat across from her, studying her face in the dim light.
“You shouldn’t have done what you did tonight,” he said quietly.
“I know.” Kelsey wanted to sink through the floor.
“You could’ve been seriously hurt. Those guys — “ He shook his head. “You’re too young to be putting yourself in situations like that. Too young to be drinking, too young to be — “ He gestured vaguely. “Whatever you were doing.”
“I’m sorry.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Then Jason leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek — chaste, brotherly, nothing like what she’d fantasized about.
“You’re a beautiful young lady,” he said softly. “But you’re a kid. Be smarter than this, okay?”
When the limo pulled up to her house, Kelsey climbed out on shaking legs. Her parents were waiting in the living room, her father’s face already thunderous.
“I’m tired,” she said before either of them could speak. “I’ll tell you everything in the morning.”
“You’re grounded until you finish college,” her father snapped.
“Honey, you can’t do that,” her mother interjected. “Let’s just talk and figure this out.”
But Kelsey barely heard them. She climbed the stairs to her room, collapsed onto her bed, and touched her cheek where Jason had kissed her.
By Monday morning, everyone at Moreland High knew that Kelsey Brennan had ridden home in Jason Stryker’s limo.
She was a legend.
And buried deep in her desk drawer, she kept every article about Magic Journey she could find, every interview with Jason, every picture. Her crush didn’t fade after that night.
If anything, it intensified.
Jason Stryker had saved her. And part of her never stopped believing that maybe, someday, she could save him back.